


Paper Stars

by Deviant_Donghun



Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [33]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Purple Prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deviant_Donghun/pseuds/Deviant_Donghun
Summary: Logan had always thought it was a legend, a myth, a bedtime story. But the thought of soulmates stayed with him. What happens when he comes face to face with his soulmate?
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962379
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Paper Stars

**Author's Note:**

> “Wait, what do you mean you’re my soulmate? I thought it was a myth.”
> 
> The soulmate AUs I'm using are "Legend says if you fold 1000 paper (insert object here) you will meet your soulmate" and "A touch from your soulmate will leave an imprint there (Such as a different colored area, a symbol, a name, etc.)"

Legend had it that if you managed to fold a thousand paper stars on the night of your eighteenth birthday, you would meet your soulmate. Logan had loved the idea from the first time he’d learned about it in a book buried in the back of a library shelf. He’d started that day. Any time he thought about the concept of soulmates or had a bad day, he’d make a paper star and put it in a jar. He made sure to label each star with a number. As time went on, he no longer did it when he thought of soulmates because he no longer thought about it. He no longer thought about things like soulmates as he grew older and focused more on his studies.

As the years stretched on, he only faintly remembered the book he’d found detailing the interactions of soulmates. Instead, the stars were a way of calming himself down. They became a way of counting how many bad days he’d survived, a testament to his resilience. No longer did it signify the hope he’d felt, the joy at the thought of another person out there who was made to love him and he was made to love them. 

His eighteenth birthday rolled around and it turned out to be one of the worst days of his life. Before he went to bed that night, he made a star and carefully labeled it 1,000. He recalled the old myth then, the thought of soulmates creeping into his head for the first time in years. It was a welcome thought in the same way that one looks fondly on the bedtime stories of youth.

He thought about the soulmate book and felt an ache in his chest. It was the same ache that came when he thought about people who’d left his life, the same ache when he thought about his childhood, the books he’d read when he wasn’t so cynical. This was the same ache that came up when he thought about who he used to be, the innocence that came with youth in a way that was precious but lost too easily. 

He slipped into sleep, thoughts of soulmates and being made for someone never quite leaving his mind. They invaded his dreams, showing him flashes of a life he could have had, a childhood that didn’t end almost as soon as it’d begun, a child who was allowed to explore his imagination. He dreamt of a life that was so tangible he could almost feel it but every time he tried to touch it, it slipped out of his grasp. 

He woke the next morning feeling no different. There was no tingle in the back of his head, no red string tied around his pinky. The world wasn’t in monochrome, nothing tasted different, nothing felt different. “I don’t know why I thought it would.” Logan mused aloud. “The chances of soulmates existing is small, the chances of me having a soulmate are infinitesimal.”

The next day was the same, as was the next. He went about his days as if everything was fine in the world, as if a piece of him hadn’t died on the day after his birthday, as if his childhood innocence wasn’t crumbling to the ground while he watched, as if he wasn’t feeling like his whole world was on fire. 

A few months after that, he was called away from his place restocking books to the front desk. The head librarian stood there, a young man dressed in black and purple by her side. “Logan, this is Virgil. He’s the new volunteer so I’d appreciate it if you could show him around.”

Logan nodded. “I can do that.”

He led the black clad stranger down the aisle back to his book cart. “I hope you don’t mind waiting a few minutes while I finish with this task.”

Virgil just shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Logan first thought that personality was abrasive and rude. Over time, he learned that it was meant to be, it was meant to scare away strangers, to put up a defense against an overly cruel world. Once Logan got to know Virgil better, he found the person behind the mask, the one who laughed at science jokes, the one with a wit sharp enough to keep Logan on his toes, the one who loved horror but had anxiety. He found the person who was afraid to be himself in the open, the one who wielded sarcasm like both a weapon and a blanket. 

He found himself being lost more and more in Virgil’s warm brown eyes. Most said they were prettiest when the light hit them just right to set them glowing like fire. Logan would beg to differ. Those eyes looked the best in a dark room, the only light from a TV screen. They looked best when they sparkled on their own out of pure excitement, when they were directed at Logan and he knew he had his full attention. 

Logan lost track of time when around Virgil. He hadn’t noticed a full year had flown by until they were marking his nineteenth birthday. He also hadn’t realized they’d never truly touched until he was given a hug and he felt fire course along the area where Virgil was pressed against him.

Looking down, he could see stars lining his arms. He couldn’t see them but knew the stars ran along his back and front too and probably covered his cheek. Looking back up, he saw the same origami stars littering Virgil. Virgil looked between them before smiling. “I was starting to wonder if we were soulmates. I guess this confirms it.”

Logan held up a hand. “Wait, what do you mean you’re my soulmate? I thought it was a myth. And, even if it weren’t a myth, the chances of soulmates finding each other are small.”

Virgil just smiled, hand slipping into Logan’s. They both took the time to notice how their hands fit so well together, like puzzle pieces that were specifically designed with the other in mind. Virgil shook his head briefly, bringing them both back on topic. “The chances are small but never zero. Besides, the proof is in the pudding.” He held up their intertwined hands, the fingers having notched together while Virgil was talking, to show off the origami stars that were scattered across their skin in constellations Logan was sure they would be researching later.

It took time for Logan to come to terms with the knowledge that Virgil was his soulmate. It didn’t take any time at all for him to know that he loved Virgil deeply, had loved him for a few months before they’d known they were soulmates. This didn’t change much about their dynamic. Logan paid more attention to the little things, noticed some things that he’d glossed over when they were just dating. 

The little things included the way Virgil seemed to always know when Logan needed an interruption and when not to bother him, the way Virgil leaned on him while tired, the way their hands fit so perfectly together. The things he’d never noticed were the things that proclaimed they were soulmates, things that shouted from the rooftops that they belonged to each other. The things he’d never noticed, the ones he’d chosen to ignore, were the one that showed how perfectly they fit together, just like the puzzle pieces he’d dreamed about as a child. 

A few more years went by, high school turned into college, home turned into a dorm room, life went on. They shared a dorm room their first year, Logan studying astronomy and Virgil studying art. Their second year, they’d saved enough for a small apartment. Life was good, life was happy. Logan showed Virgil his star jar and told him about it. Virgil kissed his cheek and told him the wish came true. 

“It never said how soon you’d meet your soulmate, darling.” Virgil said as they were laying in bed together. It was times like these that their conversations tended to wander, no clear direction to them but nice nonetheless. 

Logan turned his head, marveling at the human who was beside him. “Hat do you mean?”

“Well, the legend never said when you would meet, only that it would be after your eighteenth birthday if you managed to fold the stars. In a way, it’s a simple prophecy that’s just worded weirdly. If you don’t find your soulmate after the parameters have been met, one could argue that you simply didn’t meet them correctly or that you just have yet to meet them. If you do meet your soulmate, the legend gets to take the credit when it could simply be chance.”

Logan smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I love it when you get philosophical on me.”

Virgil swatted him. “Shut up and go to sleep already.”

Their third year was much the same, living comfortably together. The fourth was no different. They stayed in that apartment until Logan got a job at the local planetarium. They then moved to a bigger apartment closer to his job. Virgil started working from home, painting whatever he felt like and selling it online. He ran a fan blog where he’d take commissions. Life was good, life was happy.

Logan came home one day, feeling the weight of the box he’d had in his pocket since their fifth year together. He placed the groceries on the counter before wandering into Virgil’s art room, seeing him crouched on a stool, his hoodie discarded and his sleeves rolled up. He was deep in concentration, tongue sticking out slightly. His stars were on display and Logan got a thrill seeing them, knowing what they meant. 

“Hey,” he said softly in the hopes of not breaking his concentration. “I brought food.”

Virgil glanced up briefly, only for his eyes to unfocus almost as soon as he’d done so. He got the glassy look in his eye that Logan knew was exhaustion and stubbornness pooling into overworking. “What time is it?”

Logan sighed fondly, moving to run his fingers over Virgil’s arm, fingertips pausing on the stars and connecting them. “It’s almost six. How long have you been working?”

Virgil closed his eyes, leaning against Logan. “Since you left.”

Logan frowned, fingers halting their movements briefly. “That was twelve hours ago, Virgil.”

Virgil just shrugged. “Oops.”

Logan smiled, sadness tinging the edges. “Come eat with me? If nothing else, come sit and talk to me while I cook? I want to spend time with you.”

Virgil nodded and stood, tiredly following him out to the kitchen. He slid onto the counter, sitting in the corner that was deliberately left empty for him to sit there. Virgil talked about his latest project as well as the commission he was working on. His face grew more animated and he looked more awake and alive than he had been. Logan smiled as he worked, loving the enthusiasm in Virgil’s voice. Maybe tonight was the night he’d do it, he thought, maybe tonight is the right time. 

Later, after they’d eaten, while they were lying on a nearby hill looking at the stars, Logan knew it was time. He didn’t know how he knew, nothing was different from their usual routine, but something told him he’d regret it if he didn’t speak up in that moment.

So, he did. He stood, pulling Virgil to his feet next to him, and knelt. He pulled that box out of his coat pocket, and looked up at Virgil, who had tears in his eyes already. “Virgil Storm, you’ve known me for almost seven years now. You’re my soulmate and I wouldn’t trade you for the world. We’ve shared many things together: homes, food, beds, classes, jobs, love. Will you let me share my name with you?”

Virgil had a hand over his mouth, tears pouring out of his eyes. All he could seem to do was nod for a few seconds before responding verbally. “Yes!” the word came out like a shout, like a cheerful crack of thunder befitting his name. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you!”

Logan stood, kissing him like he was drowning and Virgil was a breath of air. They spent the rest of the night curled in each other’s arms, Virgil lifting his hand to see the ring glinting in the light every once in a while. 


End file.
